


Back (Home)

by Jonjo



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Cuddling & Snuggling, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, M/M, Panic Attacks, Pre-Slash, Snow, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-25
Updated: 2013-11-25
Packaged: 2017-12-31 21:50:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1036767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jonjo/pseuds/Jonjo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and Derek visit a new pack that’s moved in to a territory north of Beacon Hills. They have a great time until they try to return home. But maybe their time together won’t be entirely miserable.</p>
            </blockquote>





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**Author's Note:**

  * For [blue_eyed_1987](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=blue_eyed_1987).



> I have taken some liberties with the descriptions of the Callahan area in this story, like locating a Sheriff’s Department there and having cabins at the Scott Mountain camp ground but the rest of it is all true. Maybe.
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks to M, C and N for all their help

 

**Christmas Day**

Stiles hadn’t been back in Beacon Hills for some time. It actually felt like forever, but was probably closer to three years. He wouldn’t have been back this time either except for the favour he had promised his dad.

It wasn’t that he hated Beacon Hills, it was just that being away at university had come as such a relief. Without the supernatural shit that had become normal at home, he was able to relax and concentrate on his studies and the other natural interests of young men away from home for the first time. He hadn’t ignored his magic either, in fact he had learned a lot and had gained much better control over it once he had left the influence of the nemeton.

So he was back for Christmas and had decided the only way forward was to go all out. He had cooked a massive Christmas dinner for his dad and the McCalls (and Isaac who now came as part of that package) and was setting out leftovers and Christmassy delicacies for the rest of the pack who’d started arriving that evening.

Stiles looked around their small living room, it was full to bursting with his friends, and it felt good. Fantastic in fact, he couldn’t remember a time when all these people had been together and _smiling_. There was no immediate danger, no imminent threats, just comfort and companionship – pack.

Danny approaches him, plate piled high, “Hey, man, this is great,” he says biting the cherry off the top of his macaroon. “It’s good to see you, been a while.” Before Stiles had left for school they’d had an easy thing going, buddies and benefits he’d called it. Just fun and a way to help Danny get over Ethan after the twins had taken off.

“There’s a party tomorrow night at Jungle, d’you want to go?” Danny asks.

“Ah man, I can’t. I’m heading up to Callahan with Derek and Cora. Going to help out the new pack out there with some of the old voodoo,” and wiggles his fingers not really achieving the spooky effect he was trying for. “Promised my dad I’d help them get settled. But a good looking young man like yourself...” this time it is his eyebrows he wiggles with only slightly more success. “Take Lydia, you’ll have a blast man,” and his smile spreads wide across his face.

“Which reminds me...” he mumbles and turns to search the room for Derek. Spotting him, he calls out “What time are we hitting the road tomorrow, Hale?” Stiles is all face and bravado not having spent much time with Derek over the past few years and still somewhat embarrassed about the huge crush he had once had. He doesn’t really know how to relate to Derek anymore, especially as Scott was always telling him how he much he had mellowed.

 

*********

**New Years Day**

Stiles is a bit worse for wear that morning, partly because he had got a little drunk the night before on some elderberry wine he had bought in Callahan for the occasion. It had been good to relax and watch Derek and Cora enjoy themselves especially as it was obvious that Cora and their Alpha, Byron were becoming an item.

They’d had a good time with the Callahan Pack, but it had been hard work and Stiles was glad to be climbing back into Derek’s SUV and heading back to Beacon Hills. The pack had acquired a large area of forest south and west of Callahan, quiet and largely undisturbed, only frequented by the odd forest ranger and a few hikers in the warmer months.

It takes them a while to get back to the road and into Callahan from the pack house and they stop at the service station there to get gas and supplies.  The cashier tells them they’ve just had a storm warning but that they should have time to get down off the mountains. So they buy burgers and Derek picks up some jerky and bottles of water. Stiles goes for cookies and a Batman fleece blanket that he can’t resist.

The trip had gone well but Derek is getting quieter and quieter as they drive away from Callahan, if that’s possible for someone who isn’t actually speaking. Stiles had renewed his knowledge of Derek’s facial expressions over the past few days and thought he was pretty much up to speed. The current arrangement of eyebrows, he is sure, is not a good sign.

“You alright, Sourwolf?”

“Yeah...yeah...” Derek replies and it goes quiet again for a few miles. Then out of the blue he says “I’ve lost her again”.

“What? Derek, who?” Stiles asks after refocusing his attention.

“Cora. She’s found a new pack.”

“Well, yes... maybe, but you haven’t lost her.”

“But she won’t be coming back.” And it goes quiet again. Stiles can think of a hundred things to say but none of them sound any good in his head, they’re just platitudes. He wants to cheer Derek up but he is aware of how much he has lost. However friendly he had become with Scott and Isaac they weren’t really a substitute for family but Cora had made such a difference when she had returned. She had been able to remind him of before the fire – when he’d been happy. Stiles hopes he had been happy back then, because otherwise... well, he just hopes.

Stiles is tired, setting the wards had been long and exhausting – the Callahan Pack territory was huge, it had taken them four days to cross it and re-cross it, setting them up and linking them. He and Derek had also helped Alpha Byron build and strengthen the bonds within his pack, teaching them how to recognise and locate disturbances in the barrier the wards had created. So he is drifting between sleep and old memories of Derek from when they first met. Derek reaches into the backseat, grabs the Batman blanket and throws it at him, Stiles just smiles and snuggles into it (‘cos Batman is awesome).

A few miles farther on the car skids to a halt and Stiles yelps from the passenger seat.

“Whoa, whoa! What the hell!”

“The snow’s getting worse.”

Stiles rubs his eyes and looks out. “Shit, yeah – I didn’t even notice it start. Should we go back?”

“No.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” and Derek does sound pretty sure, “we might make it back to Callahan but the road to the pack house...”

“Yeah – I guess, just... be careful.” He tries to stay awake, staring at the road ahead of them, but the exhaustion gets him again.

 

The snow isn’t that heavy but the wind is getting much worse – amongst the trees there’s some shelter but the SUV gets buffeted badly when they’re out in the open. Derek is torn either between slowing right down or getting farther down the mountain before it gets even worse. The damn thing would be called _Scott_ Mountain Road he thinks as he clings tighter to the steering wheel.

He comes around a corner and the car swerves viciously across the road – Derek tries to control it but even werewolf strength can’t keep it on track. But then he is back in the trees and relaxes, once again able to steer properly. It’s a mistake though; his temporary inattention means he is unprepared when the next exposed section of the road comes up too quickly. It is only a small gap but the full force of a gust hits the side of the car forcing it across the road. Derek yanks the wheel hard but it’s too late, he’s skidding straight for a large pine and then... nothing.

 

The collision doesn’t wake Stiles – magical exhaustion is no pussy – but the freezing cold is another matter (awesome Batman blanket notwithstanding).

When Stiles does wake, he finds a tree in his face and is covered in snow.

“The fuck...”

Luckily it’s not much of a tree, a small branch in fact, which he manages to break off easily but the snow is much more worrying. He turns to Derek to find out why he hadn’t woken him and swears again.

“Shit! Derek...shit!” Derek really does have a tree in his face – a sizeable branch has come through the side window and hit him. There’s a gash on his forehead and his face is covered in blood.

When Stiles moves to get a better look at unconscious Derek, two things happen – even more snow falls through the sunroof (ha!) which must have burst open on impact and the car shifts. It is pinned at an angle by the branch, halfway into the roadside ditch. The tree itself stopping the SUV from rolling over farther but it’s not stable.

Stiles is doing his best not to freak, he really is, but his brain is not on his side. It has set up a looping chant of ‘we’re gonna die’ in his head and is moving towards panic mode. He swallows hard and starts to inch his way forward trying for smooth and graceful (yeah, right!), so he can reach Derek without moving the car too much. Derek’s still unconscious and his forehead is still bleeding – presumably Stiles decides because the cold is inhibiting the healing process.

Stiles' breathing starts hitching up and his heart rate is stupid but he thinks he is holding it together until he looks down and sees that the snow covering half of Derek’s chest is stained red, like raspberry sorbet. And that’s it – he’s gone. A full-on panic attack erupts and he frantically scrambles back, kicking out in an effort to move back across the car. The feeling of Derek’s ribs cracking beneath his feet makes him feel sick, but the noise that Derek makes scares the living daylights out of him.

 

The panic stops Stiles from moving and he is getting progressively colder. Tentatively he asks, “Derek?” and is answered with a deep growl.

Derek wants to ignore him and just heal the pain in his ribs but the lack of breathing coming from Stiles snaps him into action.

“Stiles! Breathe!” he growls again without much effect. He huffs and goes with a gentler tone, “Come on Stiles, breathe with me,” and places his hand over Stiles’.

That seems to work and things slowly begin to improve, Stiles calms and his breaths deepen and listening to them helps Derek concentrate on his own breathing as his ribs knit back together.

 

“Jesus Derek, this is a freakin’ clusterfuck!” Stiles says, obviously feeling better. “How bad is your head?”

“It’s stopped bleeding. I’ll be fine, but we need to get warm.”

“Let’s make a nest?” asshole Stiles snorts and gets ignored. He tries again. “Uh, I think it’s pretty much snow-free in the back, we should be okay if we can block the window and keep the wind out.”

“Yeah, okay... we can try that, there are wool blankets back there that should be dry and...”

“Awww! Batman’s sodden!” Stiles interrupts.

“He always was a bit of a wet blanket!” Derek says, hiding his head in shame even though it makes Stiles smile.

“Come on,” Stiles says starting to scramble over the seats.

“Take your clothes off first,” Derek suggests and Stiles doesn’t squeak or make any other unmanly noise but he does grab his duffel so he can get dry clothes on as quickly as possible. No way is he getting naked around Derek Hale. Thankfully – because really, who needs perfection shoved in their face – Derek does the same.

It is awkward getting organized in the back of the SUV, but they’ve dropped the seats down so they’ve got a fairly good space and have managed to block the worst of the wind and snow from getting in. The exhaustion hits Stiles again and he curls up in a blanket with his duffel as a pillow. He tries to take an inventory of the bruises he has obtained in the reorganization but he only gets to six before he drops off.

 

*********

**January 2nd**

Derek wakes feeling fairly good, his head is healed and his ribs are only slightly tender. How he looks however is not quite so good. His face and hands are still covered in blood and he can’t get his hand through his hair because the blood’s congealed. He carefully moves from under his blanket, trying not to disturb Stiles. Weak sunlight is filtering into the car and Derek decides he may as well take advantage of the break in the storm to do a little recon of the area and check the damage to the SUV. It takes him a while to get out, snow has built up against the car and he has to lower the window bit by bit and sweep it away until he has got a big enough hole to get through.

Outside he assesses the damage. A large amount of snow has fallen from the tree onto the car’s roof and hood, causing them to buckle but only slightly. The front fender is dented where it hit the tree and the drivers-side window is smashed but apart from that it doesn’t look too bad.  He finds a couple of small rocks and wedges them under the tyres to stabilize the car and then sweeps away as much snow as he can. The sunroof is fairly easy to fix and it stops any more snow getting in. He feels pretty pleased with his efforts.

He writes Stiles a quick note to tell him he won’t be gone long and to stay in the warm (as if it needs saying) and then strips and stows his clothes inside. He wolfs out, and immediately feels more comfortable in his surroundings. His wolf leaps into a snow bank rolls around getting rid of the blood, then he heads back up the road they way they had come the day before. He is pretty sure he had seen a roadside notice for a camp ground and wants to find out if there is anything there.

The road is fairly deep in snow, too deep to get the SUV through and drifts have build up where the wind has blasted through breaks in the trees. It’s not a good sign, if it was just him up there he could probably make it out in wolf form, but Stiles just won’t make it unless the weather improves drastically. He looks up and realizes that improvement isn’t coming yet. The dark clouds are building again and the wind has picked up. As he lopes between the trees next to the road where the snow is less deep, he tries not to think about how much trouble they’re in but it’s no good. Hypothermia is a real risk for Stiles if they can’t get out of the cold and their food won’t last long even if they ration it.

The first sign he finds reveals they are on the border of the Klamath National Forest and Shasta – Trinity National Forest where the Pacific Crest Trail crosses state highway 3. He feels better knowing their location, he knows it doesn’t change anything but it makes him feel more secure somehow. A little further up the road there is camping information and Derek follows the track indicated into the forest until he spots the cabins. The wolf nearly howls at the sight of them – maybe they will be alright after all.

Thankfully, the first cabin he comes to isn’t locked, he didn’t want to have to force the door and maybe damage it. It only gets better when he goes inside, there’s a wood-burning stove stuffed with logs and firestarters ready to heat the cabin quickly and even a box of matches left in front of it. He shifts so that he can light the fire and secures the stove door, then has a quick look around. There are bunks and some blankets and even some canned food. The relief flows through him, they’ll be okay for a while at least.

He closes the cabin door and wolfs out again, setting off at top speed back towards the SUV, he needs to get Stiles back to the cabin before the storm gets going again. Despite their predicament Derek can’t help but feel happy. His wolf loves the freedom of running through the snow without fear of being spotted. He sends a quick prayer of thanks to his mother that he can shift into full wolf form, perfectly at one with the landscape.

 

His mood darkens as he peers into the SUV, Stiles is still asleep and doesn’t seem to be moving. Derek shifts quickly and pulls on some clothes, then climbs into the car to check on Stiles. He is unconscious, freezing cold to the touch and barely breathing. He seems to have thrown off his blankets and most of his clothes and Derek can’t understand why, a nightmare maybe. He pulls Stiles to him and wraps him in his arms pulling the blankets tightly around them. He tamps down his fears, he knows he has to get Stiles to the cabin quickly but taking him out into the cold now will not help his condition. He hugs him for a while allowing his higher body temperature to warm Stiles. When he is no longer deathly cold and his breathing has improved Derek wraps him up as best he can, finding a woolly hat and gloves and putting those on him too, and lifts him out of the car. He had hoped Stiles would have been able to run with him on the way back to the cabin, the exercise would have done him good, but he needs to be carried and Derek is determined to get him there safely in as short a time as possible.

Derek practically falls through the cabin door, exhausted by his efforts but the warmth inside revives him quickly. He pulls a mattress from one of the bunks and shoves it closer to the stove then lies Stiles gently down on it. He goes back outside for more wood to keep the stove burning and then settles next to Stiles pulling him close.

Sitting there with Stiles in his arms, he considers what he knows about hypothermia. He knows that a conscious Stiles would protest vehemently about being undressed by him but he also knows skin-to-skin contact is one of the best ways to warm him up.

He removes his own clothes first and wraps himself in a blanket. He lays the cabin blankets flat on the mattress and carefully moves Stiles onto them then leaving the woolly hat in place he starts to strip Stiles. Once he’s done, he lies down and curls himself around Stiles pulling their blankets on top of them.

Even though Stiles is slightly taller, Derek thinks he feels tiny wrapped around him and he worries that he hasn’t been looking after himself away at college. It has been a long time since Derek allowed himself to worry about Stiles. He had left and started a new life and any hopes Derek may have fostered of making Stiles his mate had long since been put away. Now though he can’t help but worry, it is entirely up to him to get Stiles better and then home safe.

 

*********

**January 3rd**

Derek is woken by wiggling and wriggling, and not completely useless attempts at kicking and punching, and he finds himself laughing out loud.

“Shut up, asshole!” comes the muffled reply as Stiles tries to fight his way out of Derek’s clutches. Derek releases him and waits for the next outburst.

“I’m fucking naked,” Stiles yells or would have if his throat hadn’t been so sore. And Derek can’t help himself, he just cracks up. It is such a wonderful noise that after a while Stiles gives up scowling and joins in. Then Derek nearly chokes trying to get out some words while he’s still laughing but eventually breaths “Me too!” and they both laugh themselves silly.

Stiles has never heard Derek laugh like that, even with the Callahan Pack where he had been really relaxed and had smiled most of the time. He loves the sound, he realizes, and definitely wants more.

As they recover, Stiles looks around.

“Where the hell are we?”

“Cabin, not far from the highway where we crashed.”

“We crashed?” Stiles sounds astounded. “When did we crash?”

“Yesterday,” Derek responds before noticing the dawn light. “Nope, the day before yesterday.”

“Shit, my dad’s going to be seriously worried, dude.”

“Don’t call me dude,” Derek growls and then more softly says, “And yeah, I know. I’m hoping there’s some sort of emergency phone in one of the cabins.”

Stiles tries to jump up, urging “Come on then,” but Derek catches him as he stumbles and says “No!”

“What? Why?”

“Because you’re recovering from hypothermia and you haven’t eaten in days.”

“Oh,” Stiles says and goes quiet.

“Don’t worry. It’ll be okay. There’s soup in that cupboard, I’ll heat it up for us and once we’ve eaten I’ll go and see what I can find. Okay?”

“Yeah, yeah okay... but I’m coming with you.”

“Stiles, no... You nearly died, you were unconscious and... Shit Stiles, no! I can’t have you getting cold again... I can’t lose you too...I can’t.”

“Derek?” Stiles asks but he has turned away and started going through the cupboards. So Stiles shrugs and starts putting on his clothes, only noticing when he’s dressed that Derek is still only wearing a blanket.

“I think maybe you should put some clothes on before you start to cook,” Stiles suggests and Derek looks down and then nods but doesn’t say anything.

 

Derek does speak eventually, but he’s still shut down, embarrassed by the truth of his outburst. He hands Stiles a bowl of soup and a spoon.

“I’m going to see what I can find. I promise I won’t contact the sheriff without you.”

“Derek? What did I do...”  Derek just gives him a blank look, without even any eyebrow action.

“I won’t be long,” he says and then he leaves.

The blast of cold air that hits Stiles when the door opens, takes his breath away and he only just saves his soup. “Shit...shit, fuck, shit... asshole Stiles fuckin’ strikes again.”

 

Stiles had fallen asleep by the time Derek returns. The sharp cold wakes him as Derek stumbles over the threshold and collapses near the stove.

“What happened? Derek?”

“I went to the car... the...”

“Storm got worse; yeah, I can see that,” Stiles interrupts. “We need to get you out of those clothes.”

Derek raises his head, a very slight smile on his lips. “You want to strip me naked?”

“Jokes?” Stiles huffs, exasperated, “Jokes! You think now is a good time for jokes?”

“It always works for you,” Derek mumbles and slumps further.

Stiles starts to move quickly, taking the straps of their bags off Derek’s shoulders and pulling his coat off next. He removes Derek’s boots and socks and starts on his shirts. Everything he is wearing is wet through and even his skin is cold.

“You’re a werewolf, damn it! You’re not meant to get cold. Derek... what’s wrong? Why are you so cold?”

 “Everyone leaves, everyone is gone,” he breathes in reply, barely audible.

Stiles feels the edge of his panic, just beginning to build but he forces it back down. He removes the rest of Derek’s wet clothes, only sparing a moment to wish it was in better circumstances. He wraps Derek in the blankets and lays him gently on the mattress.

He opens a can and pours the soup out into a pan and puts it to heat on the hot plate atop the stove. Then he moves back to Derek and hugs him tight.

“You still with me, Sourwolf?” he asks and then again, more urgently “Derek, say something.”

A soft growl is the only reply but it’s enough for Stiles, for now.

“I’m heating some soup for you, you need to eat. Then we’re gonna do the bare hugging thing – you don’t get to have all the fun, you know.” He tries to smile but it just won’t work.

When the soup’s ready, Stiles sits Derek up so he can lean back against his chest. He helps hold the mug to his lips, so that he can drink the soup. It takes a while but it seems to revive Derek somewhat and Stiles relaxes, just a little.

Then he takes a deep breath, strengthening his resolve and strips off, wrapping the pair of them up in the blankets just as Derek had done for him.

“We’ll be alright, Sourwolf. We’ll be alright together,” he murmurs as he hugs a little tighter and gives in to sleep again.

 

*********

**January 4th**

 It is the morning of the third day since they left Callahan and they wake curled up together.

“Stiles?” Derek asks.

“Mmmm.”

“We’re naked,” Derek says, a little confused.

“You were cold,” is all the reply he gets as Stiles snuggles further down into the warmth.

Derek stares up at the ceiling but doesn’t move away. He wants to be hopeful but he is too scared.

 

They don’t leave the comfort of the blankets until the state of the fire becomes an issue and even then they’re both reluctant. It takes a while longer for the relevant question to occur to Stiles.

“Shit Derek, what happened yesterday, did you find anything?”

“Yeah, yes... man, how did I forget?” Derek says scrambling out of the blankets reaching for his duffel. “I found a radio, vhf I think, look it’s labelled and everything.”

“Jesus, Derek! How could you forget?”

“Sorry, going to the car and back was too much; I didn’t think it would be so hard.”

“Yeah. Sorry Sourwolf, not your fault, I just want to contact my dad, you know how he worries. We’ve probably been reported missing already but with this storm I doubt they’ve been able to get very far.”

 “Well let’s do it now then, it’s still early,” Derek says passing Stiles the radio. “You do it; I don’t know the first thing about what to say.”

“Okay, I’ve heard my dad use one. Erm, yeah, first do you know where we are?”

“Yeah, Scott Mountain.”

“Scott really, it would be. He’ll probably be pleased about that. Okay yeah... any more info...”

“Where the Pacific Crest Trail crosses State Highway 3.”

“Oh, that’s good. Right, ok.”

Stiles breathes in through his nose and out through his mouth a few times to calm himself and looks at the radio. He clicks the emergency button and begins to text their details.

“Why not speak to them?”

“Too easy for information to be distorted; besides I’m quicker at this.”

Despite the texted information, they receive a verbal response.

-        Scott Mountain; This is the Sheriff Department in Callahan; Can you confirm?

    -        Callahan; This is Scott Mountain; Stuck due to snow storm; vehicle accident; no casualties, I repeat no casualties.

-        Scott Mountain; Confirm your position.

    -        We are at the Scott Mountain campsite; where Pacific Crest Trail crosses State Highway 3. Car further south on State Highway 3.

-        Do you have adequate shelter?

    -        We have food and shelter.

-        How many persons?

    -        Two persons; one...two; Derek Hale; Stiles Stilinski.

-        Okay; Storm should die by tomorrow night. Think you can drive out if we send you a snow plough?

    -        Standby

Stiles checks with Derek, who nods.

    -        Should be able to drive out behind the plough;

-        Good; Anyone you want me to contact?

    -        Can you contact Beacon Hills Sheriff; tell him his son and Derek Hale are safe and well.

-        Wilco; see you in on the 6th.

    -        Thanks; Scott Mountain Clear.

 

“So...er...three days. We can do that, right?”

“Don’t see why not, we have food, shelter and its only two days really.”

“And you’re not going to get bored of me and rip my throat out.”

“Stiles? It’s been years since I used that threat on you.”

“Yeah, but you’ve never been stuck in a cabin with me for three days before.”

“Two days and I won’t rip your throat out,” Derek deadpans turning away, “At least not yet.”

“Whaaa...” Stiles squawks and a wide smile breaks across Derek’s face.

 

The days are short in the Winter, so they have more soup and some jerky for breakfast and get busy. Derek heads out for a run and to see if he can find more firewood while Stiles checks the food supplies.

It is mostly soup, but there are some cans of stew, canned meat and vegetables and a large bag of rice. Also some packets of Kool-Aid drink mix which makes Stiles smile. And a small packet of chili powder. They’re fairly low on water but Stiles reckons boiled snow will do just fine.

He sets about tidying the place and getting sorted. He had hardly noticed his surroundings until that morning. The magical exhaustion and cold had rendered him pretty useless. He’s so glad it’s Derek who is with him, not just because of his werewolf attributes but because he knows there is no one else he’d rather be with. His mind wanders off thinking about all the times he should have thanked Derek for his help over the years.

“Man, I was selfish at sixteen,” he says aloud.

He’s folded the blankets and pushed the mattresses to the wall, one on top of the other to form a sort of sofa. He realizes a cold draught is coming through the window so he pins up one of the rougher blankets over it with a hammer and some tacks that had been left in the closet. He even fashions a tie-back so he can make the best of the daylight.

He hears Derek outside piling up more logs, so he pulls his boots on and his coat and opens the door. It isn’t snowing but the wind is still bitter once he is out of the lee of the cabin, so he retreats and returns wearing an extra sweatshirt, gloves, hat and scarf.

 

“How’s it going Sourwolf?” he asks sitting on the deck outside the cabin.

“Do you have to call me that?”

“Err…no, not really, just… I don’t know, thought you liked it for some reason. I don’t mean it as an insult, at least not anymore, not for ages really…”

“Stiles shut up.”

“Oh…”

After a few minutes Derek says, “I don’t mind it, it’s better than dude, but my name’s Derek. Can’t you use that?”

“Yeah…of course, but it’s nice to have nicknames. What about wolfie or Derry or…”

“Cora calls me Der,” he cuts in, “I quite like that. Laura used to, too.”

“Yeah okay then, ‘Der’ it is. So how are you getting on?”

“Not bad. There’s plenty of firewood – I took some from each of the cabins so none of them are without. I hate the idea of someone else not surviving because we were selfish.”

Stiles goes quiet for a while and then asks how Derek put up with him when he was sixteen. “Jesus, I was self-centered.”

“You weren’t so bad, you saved my life more than once and you always looked after your dad.”

“Yeah, by lying to him,” Stiles mumbles sarcastically.

Derek turns to Stiles, looking him straight in the face. “All sixteen year olds are a bit selfish. Tell me why you lied to your dad.”

“I wanted to keep him safe.” Stiles huffs, “Okay then, not totally selfish.”

 

 Stiles cooks, having found a couple more pans and some bowls at the back of another cupboard. There’s only the one hot plate but it is fairly easy to keep stuff warm in front of the stove. He’s cooked some rice and is heating a can of stew to go with it. It’s not very inspiring he thinks but it is good hot food so he really can’t complain. He has also boiled some snow, so he makes them hot orange Kool-Aid while they wait for the food to cook.

 

“This isn’t too bad, right?” Stiles says, taking another swig of his drink.

“What?” Derek asks, his head inside the closet. “Hey, I’ve found some cards, d’you want to play?”

“Yeah, sure. What can you play?”

“I don’t know… 21, poker, slapjack… oh, Cora taught me James Bond. Do you know it?”

“No, but you can teach me after we eat. This is ready,” Stiles says, indicating the food.

They settle down on the mattress-sofa with their bowls and slip into a comfortable silence watching the fire. It is only about four o’clock but it’s already getting dark so Stiles has lit a hurricane lantern.

“We’re not usually still awake this late, got to use the daylight I suppose,” Stiles says with a small laugh.

“Yeah, not even with Byron’s pack (except for New Year), it’ll be weird when we get back to Beacon Hills.”

 

“Cards’ll have to wait ‘til tomorrow I think, I’m pretty tired,” Stiles says putting his bowl in the sink with Derek’s.

“Fine by me, shall I put the mattresses out.”

“Yeah, please”.

They take off their clothes but they don’t strip completely and it’s kind of awkward until they’re both under the blankets and Derek pulls Stiles in as little spoon.

“I like this, Der,” Stiles says as he snuggles in.

“Me too,” he replies softly, and falls asleep with a little more hope in his heart.

*********

**January 5th**

Stiles wakes alone, quite cold, missing the werewolf body-heat. To be honest, he thinks, I’m missing the werewolf too. He’s liked sleeping with Derek. With the warmth and security, not to mention just how freakin’ awesome his body is. He spends a few minutes just musing on the subject of perfect pecs and awe inspiring abs, until he realizes it is too cold for that kind of thing and gets dressed.

There’s a note from Derek saying he’s gone to the car and will be back in a couple of hours, so Stiles looks around for what he can do. There are dirty dishes that need cleaning and he wants to cook something more interesting than just plain stew from a can, so he gets to work.

 

He finds a can of red kidney beans with a recipe on the back he thinks he can just about make with the ingredients at hand. He has the beans, chilli powder, ground beef and tomatoes. He could do with an onion or some garlic but he knows that’s a big ask. Derek turns up just as he is considering alternatives, so he asks.

“Do any of the cabins have onions or garlic do you think?”

“Onions? Maybe canned fried onions – would they do?”

“Anything will do, it’s not like there’s a store down the road,” his answer is somehow less sarcastic than he had expected. Even so, he doesn’t want to get Derek pissed so he reiterates “Anything you can find will be wonderful du... Der. D’you want a hot drink before you go looking?”

“Yes, I’m freezing,” he says emphatically, as he rubs his hands together near the stove. “I got the car back on the road and it started fine. If the snow plough can get through we should be off this mountain tomorrow.”

“Wow! Good going,” Stiles smiles and Derek smiles right back at him.

 

 Derek does find that can of fried onions and some corn kernels too and Stiles is pretty damn pleased with the resulting feast.  Despite Stiles having made what he thinks is far too much, they manage to finish it all, which he takes as affirmation of this culinary excellence.

Despite wanting to curl up and doze as they digest the monster meal, they realize that help will probably, (Murphy’s Law), turn up early the next day and they should be prepared. So they clean and pack and return borrowed items and finally get to collapse into bed.

 

 A few hours later Stiles wakes and curls into Derek’s warmth.

“I’m going to miss this Der,” he whispers and jumps when Derek agrees, not expecting him to be awake.

After a moment Derek says, “We don’t have to,” his voice tentative and soft, "Miss it I mean."

“So I could do this?” Stiles asks and lightly kisses Derek’s lips. Derek doesn’t bother to answer verbally, but he does pull Stiles closer and kisses him more thoroughly, his heart leaping as Stiles enthusiastically joins in.

They run out of air eventually and part gasping.

“I want to do more of that,” Stiles states bluntly.

“Just that, or are you open to other ideas?” Derek asks and a smirk settles on his lips, at least until Stiles wipes it away with more kisses.

 

*********

**January 6th**

They are woken by a horn blaring and are sorely tempted to ignore it. Instead Derek drops a quick kiss on Stiles’ forehead and gets out from under the blankets. He pulls on his clothes quickly and goes outside to acknowledge their rescuers.

 

Turns out there’s just one. A well covered head pops out of the snow plough’s window.

“Hey!” he shouts.

They both look up and see it is the cashier from the gas station. Understanding their confusion he says, “I volunteer on my off days – not much business about anyways with this snow. Get in, we’ll go find your vehicle.”

They load up their bags, settling inside the cab and all introduce themselves, before Brad starts talking.

“Damn, wish I’d asked which way you was heading. This road’s true evil in them high westerly winds, you coulda died easy going over one of them bluffs. Shoulda told you to take the Gazelle road, get you down to the five. Where’s you heading anyways?”

Brad hardly takes a breath between sentences, only stopping to get a question answered, sometimes not even then and Stiles resolves to be more careful in future about how much he talks.

The SUV isn’t far down the road and once they’ve checked it’ll start, Brad is ready to head off. He says he’ll take the snow plough down to the Trinity River and then work his way back up to Callahan.

As they’re thanking him he says, “Sure glad you two found them cabins... hypothermia’s a bitch,” and wonders why both Stiles and Derek are suddenly blushing.

 

Fin


End file.
